Kellen adds to the conversation:"Never been there, so I'll admit to a little curiosity but...," he pauses at the sounds and looks at Thordak. "No, you didn't imagine it...sounds like music, maybe."
Rhianni gets back on board, smiling and fingering her new finds. She has been able to buy some leaves to make meditation tea. She looks atthe pouch hoping there are enough leaves for two sitting of this interesting drink.
Meditation Tea
Price 30 gp; Weight —
Drinking this cloudy tea has a soothing effect that clarifies your thoughts. For 10 minutes after drinking the tea, you gain a +2 alchemical bonus against mind-affecting effects. If you drink meditation tea while suffering from a mind-affecting affect, you may immediately roll another saving throw (with the +2 bonus) against the effect; you may gain this particular benefit only once per day.
The gentle lap of the water against the boat and the gentle swaying in the water has a soporific effect on Rhianni, With a long lazy delivery of words she simply states, "Sounds like a good idea to me, gnomes can be fun or annoying....or both....hmmmm let's stop and enjoy the stay, the lights of the settlement look friendly and welcoming."
"If it's partying Gnomes, then..."
Lym makes a gesture and speaks a Word of Power. Colourful lights fly up from her hand and settle in the ship's rigging, creating a festive effect as they shift from one colour to another.
"Best to get on the natives' good side, hmm?" the Wizard says. "Gnomes do love new experiences, so let's give them something pleasant to experience. Rhianni, if you have anything low-energy but festive-looking, you might want to trot it out."
As you drift closer to the dockside of Whistledown, the sound becomes apparent to all. You can just see by the lights of the village that every conceivable horizontal surface of every building is covered in some sort of windchime. Wood, metal, bone, any and all possible material that could be turned into such a chime has been used. The breeze blowing off of a large lake to the east is causing all of these "instruments" to create the eerie sounds. It sounds like...well, you have no basis to compare, it's very...gnomish...
"I was 'fraid you'd say that..." Tolan grimaces and gives the order to come about and dock.
It might give us a chance to get to know our new traveling companions...
"I've no desire to spend my time with 'partying' gnomes, as you call it, lass. But if the rest of ya want...," he shrugs, "feel free! To each his own I always say. Well... maybe not always; maybe just in this instance." He reasons.
"Ye have this might in Whistledown. We leave at dawn." Is the last thing you remember Tolan saying as you disembark from the Swamp Rat...
You wake up with the searing light of the sun boring into your brain. The rhythmical heave of the barge on the water...maybe "heave" wasn't a great choice of words...Then the chimes, the gods-awful, ever-present sound of those chimes....you can't hear them, but you can still hear them...
Slowly the memory of last night comes back to you...
Praxim: You reach up to rub your eyes, to try and stop the stinging and the watering that starts when you open them. You are surprised to find that your hands and -after a quick check- your face is covered in a blackened soot-like substance. You remember being in a tavern, talking about hunting big game in Varisia with a small green-haired gnome. The creature was covered in metallic (brass, you thought?) cylinders, with many pouches and tiny boxes festooned about his body. Perched atop his wild green hair was what can only be described as some sort of hat made from an animal, possibly a raccoon, although you'd swear you saw it move once or twice.
He seemed to scoff at your use of the bow, and showed you a long, wooden and steel object he called a "musket". One thing led another, and you accepted a friendly wager to see who could take down a creature the fastest. A large bailed-hay and wood target was set up, and wagers were placed by the enthusiastic crowd. You seem to recall going first, and doing an impressive amount of damage to the target, drawing many "oohs" and "aahs" from the crowd. Then the gnome stepped up. "Might want to stand back, lad. Ol' Betsy here can be a bit cantankerous." Not really believing his warning, and curious to see what this contraption was, you leaned in to look...
Staring at his hands for awhile, Praxim asks, "Lymn, did you fireball me?"
Lym: You'd like to say that you enjoyed your trip to the tavern with the rest. After all, here was a new experience, a chance to add to your base of knowledge about this land. But it seemed like every gnome who saw your veiled figure approaching wanted to come and look at was under that mask. Oh, some were polite enough, asking "please" and all that. Some just didn't care, and even one young gnome tried to lift your veil using a hook from above, laying on the edge of an awning over your head, so his friends could catch a peek.
Ending up in the tavern, you were approached by an older gnome with reddish-orange skin and long robes. You can recall that he, too, was a wizard, and said he had a new scroll he wanted you to examine. He claimed the scroll would take down all of your words as you spoke them! You would never have to write anything ever again! He said: "These fools don't understand genius at work." Or somesuch. Anyway he promised that it was only next door, and that you could get away from all of the "peekers" as he put it.
You can remember standing in front of a podium on which the scroll sat as he explained how it worked. He said: "The key is to remember that the command word is: Start." Your last memory, as a vortex of violet energy swirled up from the scroll to engulf your face, was the words of the gnome wizard appearing on the scroll..."oh dear."
Kellen: Your eyes seem to be plastered shut, and the rocking of the boat surely was sent from the Abyss to torture you.
You found The Azure Cup - Whistledown's tavern - easily enough. You were even pleased to find a group of gnomes seated around a large, round table playing some sort of drinking game. Of course as a follower of Cayden, you jumped right in. The gnomes themselves were of riotous colors: hair , skin, tattoos. Some even had colored auras dancing about them.
The game was simple enough, a small draeme of some liquor was placed in front of a contestant. He would drink it, and guess what it was. If he got it right, the next person would go. If not, he had to drink another shot of the same drink. Last person standing won the pot, 100gp.
Your time in Riddleport served you well. Having drank the beers, wines, and liquors from around the world, you did remarkably well, you recall. Somewhere in the haze of last night's memories, you know that it came down to just you and a rather odd gnome. Odd, in the fact that this gnome was a full 6" shorter than the rest of his kind. You seem to recall that his name was odd too: "The Sponge", they called him. The last drinks came around. Yours was easy enough, although it took you three or four tries to make them understand that you said "Mwangi Monkey Sweat". "The Sponge" guessed his as well, "Kaer Maga Blood Wine". Your turn: the drink set before you actually smelled of brimstone, and seemed to bubble as it sat. Picking it up and downing it, you saw the (thousands? hard to tell as burry as everything was) of spectators looking at you expectantly. "Sprughkafibble." was all you could muster...then a great view of the ceiling...then darkness...
Thordak: You wake up with a start from a dream in which a comely dwarven lass was running her finger along your nose. Reaching up, you grab ahold of a piece of pink ribbon that was brushing your face in the soft breeze. Now fully awake, you can see that it isn't just one, but a dozen of the things that are tied about your beard and hair. Sitting up quickly, you can even hear the faint tinkling of bells, ringing where they are attached to a few of the ribbons.
You remember now the children, the large group of gnomish children who ran up to you claiming they had a monster in their yard! Pulling you along, they chattered at you about the "giant monster" and how he was eating all of the kids in the neighborhood, and how "Pappa Dwarf" needed to save them! Rounding the corner, you saw a long snake-like creature, covered in a hide of greenish scales. As you watched, it "ate" a small gnome girl who was laying on the ground calling for help. "Ate" because it was clear to you that the "snake" was a group of several kids covered in green canvas tarp.
"Save us Pappa Dwarf! Save us!" the kids begged and pleaded in feigned terror, all the while pushing you forward. Grinning widely, you decided to flank the "snake", and ran up onto a wood-pile along the fence of the yard. Unfortunately for you, the wood stack was unstable, and the last thing you recall was a large board, tilting up headed right for your forehead...
Rhianni: You are the only one who wakes up clean and refreshed. And richer. 200 gp richer. Apparently there hasn't been a Harrower in Whistledown since "th' last one got et by them swamp trolls". The lines were long, and lasted well into the night. As word spread, gnomes came out in their nightclothes to stand in line. There were still 30 or so when you finally had to call a halt. And it is also apparent that gnomes LOVE readings. A LOT. Some came back three, even four times, hoping for a different result. Even though it may be against your better judgement to give a person a second, third, or fourth reading within an hour or so, these gnomes paid extra for it. Not only that, but they were delighted to get a new result - your best tips came from those folks.
Tolan looks down at the lot of you, a wry grin on his face. "Gave ya's th' chance, but nooo...'friendly and welcoming' ye said. 'Get ta know each other' ye said. 'Get on th' natives good side', ye said! Gnomes..." He mutters as he walks away...
"Glehhhh...!" Lym hawks, then staggers over to the gunwhale and lifts her veil just high enough so she can spit into the river. "I did not," she replies to Praxim without ceasing to lean over the side. "I think I might have preferred to be fireballed myself. Still, all progress requires experimentation, and experimentation involves a lot of failure. Glehhhh...!"
"I don't know about the rest of you," Praxim groans, "but our good captain here knows this river. He's the expert. From now on, we do what he says."
Placing a hand upon his head, "Oooooo my aching head. What the blast happened? I remember... a dwarven lass? No wait, I think that was a dream. Or was it real? None of you saw a dwarven lass, did ya?" He looks to them through a narrowed eye and a raised eyebrow. Not waiting for a response, "Anyway, I do remember some gnomish young'uns... I think?" Shrugging, "Oh well, I'm with the lad here. Just take us where we need to go, Captain. We've wasted enough time." As he strokes his beard, "Wha...?!" he exclaims, looking down at himself, seeing several pink ribbons within his beard. "You've got ta be kiddin' me." Sighing, Thordak begins working on removing the ribbons at a patient pace, one at a time.
Rhianni whistles a tune and before reciting the gnomish poem, Draxianbluecapbargeyfloater seas the Sellen
"Floating the Sellen in the rockandweedfusionpoweregingeeredspinnybladeythingy"
"the smell of the fish, the smell of he wind"
"catching the silver fins with the loopyroundabouttwineholeyarchingnet."
"life on the river is good."
and so she goes on, her mood happy and pocket full.
Kellen - merely does it best to sit still and not groan too much. "Ugh...if the lads from Publican House saw me now, I'd never live it down. That's it, water for me from here on out...nary a drop - Cayden forgive me."
His head and ears seem to wince at the sound of Rhianni's tune. Gah! Noise, woman...enough noise from those bloody woodwinds! Whisper if you must...and please tell me my fortune doesn't involve more gnomes."
With that out of his system, Kellen sits and nurses his headache.
The day passes somewhat amicably, aside from the rocking barge, and the bard singing and jingling her bag of gold coins...
The Swamp Rat is now hugging the northern shore of a large lake.
Tolan keeps to this side of the lake, and within several hours, a small, walled town comes into view. "Ilsurian" Tolan says, walking by you prepare to dock.
"End o' th' river, for ye's. Ye kin get rides here fer wherever yer goin'. Bin grand havin' ye aboard th' Swamp Rat. Sure yas doesn't want that job?"
You disembark from the Swamp Rat onto the docks of Ilsurian. You don't quite make it a few steps when a familiar voice calls out to you:
"What took you so long?" The voice is from this person. She is sitting on several bags grain, feet propped up on a small barrel, eating a bright red apple.
"End o' th' river, for ye's. Ye kin get rides here fer wherever yer goin'. Bin grand havin' ye aboard th' Swamp Rat. Sure yas doesn't want that job?"
Thordak looks to the others, "He's joking, right?" he asks facetiously. Shaking his head, "I'm good. Thanks for the lift. Be seein' ya." He waves, taking his leave.
You disembark from the Swamp Rat onto the docks of Ilsurian. You don't quite make it a few steps when a familiar voice calls out to you:
"What took you so long?" The voice is from this person. She is sitting on several bags grain, feet propped up on a small barrel, eating a bright red apple.
Thordak takes a long look at the woman with a raised eyebrow, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so important to ya." He turns to the others, "A shot in the dark here, but, I'm guessing ya know this lass?"
Kellen looks out at the large lake, and mutters what he assumes is obvious to everyone:"Syrantula Lake...she sits up against the Fenwall Mountains. Don't know much about Ilsurian, if anyone wants to warn us about this town." The last part he says with a half-smile - the previous events seemingly banished for now.
"Sure yas doesn't want that job?"
"Thank for the use of your barge, Cap'n - but I'm afraid I have other obligations," he adds and gives a slight bow.
"What took you so long?"
Kellen looks at the elven woman and gives a smile: "Well if I had known such a fine lass was waiting for me, I'd have been here sooner. Is the honor business or pleasure?"
Lym has been idling away the hours playing the flute -- and doing unusually well, for her. She seems content enough to hear the end of the river-journey has arrived, puts away the masterwork flute she has been carrying since she took it off of a dead man in Sandpoint, and does to collect her things.
"Alas, good captain, we have tasks to perform elsewhere," she says, courteously bowing her head as Tolen makes his offer again. "As for the future... Who knows? Time is a wheel, and it rolls many a strange place."
When faced with the Elven woman, Lym quirks an eyebrow behind her veil. Before stepping out to address her, the Wizards mutters a quick cantrip.
"Ah, Shalelu," she says. "I am surprised to see you here. What of your vigil back home?"
Seeing Shalelu, Praxim grins broadly. "Both, I'm sure," Praxim says in answer to Kellen's question.
"What brings you to this neck of Varisia? No doubt, the same that brings us."
Hearing Lym finally give a name to the mysterious elf: "Shalelu, then. Well, whatever the reasons for finding you here: well met - the name's Kellen."
Taking a moment to finish her apple, the elf regards you with appraising eyes. "Some things old, some things new." She says to Lym, "But not this anyway." She laughs as she throws the apple core off of the dock to land in the lake with a splash. Swinging her long legs down off of the barrel she stands up with a stamp of her boots.
"What brings me here? Well, that would be my business, not yours, but for old times sake...I am out here searching for someone. He is a ranger, from a band called the Black Arrows. And I didn't know that you were coming until last night. I received a message from Father Zantus, you remember him? He told me that you were coming, and that I should look you up. Turns out he got that from Brother Pietre in Magnimar. Small world, I'd say."
She pauses a moment. "Some kind of trouble, I guess, but old Zantus didn't know any more."
Looking you all in the eyes in turn: "I would consider it a personal favor if you let me come with you."
[b]"The Shalelu? Greetings, ranger. We haven't met, but I know of your reputation. We would be most pleased to have you along." Tomaru puts on his most charming smile as he offers her his hand.
Kellen seems to tense a little at her assessing eyes, but otherwise retains his mild smile at the conversation. "Well, the more the merrier I say, but I'm just the hired hand. If'n the rest are at ease with your joining us, then 'Welcome!'" He points to rest of the group as he adds his comment.
"Annnnddd...I brought a map!" She pulls a rolled up parchment from a leather case at her side and spreads it out on one of the grain bags. "It's of the area. Take a look."
Kellen glances at the map, getting his bearings and asks of Shalelu: "Looks like we travel upriver then to reach Turtleback and Fort Rannick. Since it sounds like we are walking or riding from this town, do you know much about this area? Forewarned is forearmed and all that."
"Of course you're welcome to come along. Another bow is always a good thing."
Praxim looks at the map. He gently moves Kellen's finger from wherever it was pointing to the actual town they are currently in. Turning to Lym, he asks, "Are we buying horses, or making them magically?"
Know Geography: , just in case, or that could have been really embarrassing...
Know Geography: 1d20, just in case, or that could have been really embarrassing...
Thordak shrugs. "I don't care if she comes if you lot don't. Like the lad said," motioning to Praxim, "another weapon on our side never hurts. The more the merrier. And if we're done here, we should see about our next means of transportation and get goin'. Don't wanna be stuck here all night."
You set out later that morning. The road from Ilsurian runs along the east bank of the river. On the far bank is swamp, beyond that what you now know is the Sanos Forest. To your right, a few miles from the river's bank, is a large forest of tall, dark trees. The rain, which began as you arrived in Ilsurian, has not let up in the hours you have ridden. The waters of the river are running high - you can see from here the water has overflown into the swampy area - and are close to topping the banks near the road.
"That's the Skull River, it flows south from Skull's Crossing, which I hear is a huge dam at the southern end of the Storval Deep. It enters a big lake, the Claybottom, and then flows out south to where we are. Claybottom Lake is stuffed with giant snakes, and vicious gar. Over there is the Ashwood, rumored to be infested with ogres, giants, and worse. In fact, word I have is this whole region is plagued with the things." There's a little village up ahead. Pendaka, it's called. Fishing village on a rock jetty into the lake."
"Is the river supposed to be flooding?"
"Over there is the Ashwood, rumored to be infested with ogres, giants, and worse. In fact, word I have is this whole region is plagued with the things."
Kellen comments from beneath the brim of a hat he's worn since the rain started up: "I suppose that's why Magnimar's got a fort up in these parts, eh? Keep the locals safe from those kind of things. Might explain why they wanted us to check it out - maybe these ogres have started raiding too much for the garrison."
Lym looks up from the flute, which she has been idly playing -- and losing to somewhat -- during the day's travel.
"What a charming place," she says in a flat tone, "and with such picturesque names. Makes me want to buy a vacation home here right away."
The Wizard mulls over what has been said, then sighs. "If ogres have started raiding, I imagine they would have hit the village before the fort. Unless the snake-monster has them by a tight leash, that is... Nothing to do but head into town and gather some information, I suppose."
"I agree. Make sure the people are well first. If they are, we can replenish before looking in on the fort."
"That's the Skull River, it flows south from Skull's Crossing, which I hear is a huge dam at the southern end of the Storval Deep. It enters a big lake, the Claybottom, and then flows out south to where we are. Claybottom Lake is stuffed with giant snakes, and vicious gar. Over there is the Ashwood, rumored to be infested with ogres, giants, and worse. In fact, word I have is this whole region is plagued with the things." There's a little village up ahead. Pendaka, it's called. Fishing village on a rock jetty into the lake."
Thordak gets a wild-eyed look upon him as Shalelu mentions the Ashwood. "Ooooh I want to go to the Ashwood. I've got a message I want to deliver to these giants. And it's a simple enough message..." He pauses a moment as he seems to lose himself just before simply stating, "Pain."
Rhianni eyes Praxim as he asks about the river, "All rivers flood from time to time, but you ask if this river is the subject of intentional flooding, by magics or other means. How would we know, we have seen no evidence, have we." she seems quite worried by the paladin's words. Just how would they know these things! and Thordak just wants to destroy giants and their like...uh!
Praxim raises an eyebrow. "I just meant are we coming into a rainy season. Lots of rain could mean washed out roads, which could explain why Fort Rannick has gone quiet."
Kellen nods at Praxim's assessment. "Would explain it as well, I suppose. Hopefully, someone in Pendaka or Turtleback will know more about the garrison...or maybe whatever's roaming the Ashwood."
"What a charming place," she says in a flat tone..."[/b]
"More charming than you might think to the desperate or questionable...that sound like the type that might appeal to this snake-monster?"
She shrugs. "I don't know if the river is supposed to be flooding, but I do know that this isn't the normal rainy season. That's still a couple months away according to the locals. There's not a lot in Pendaka, the fishermen there don't talk to strangers as a rule - I know, I tried. My guess would be head straight through to Turtleback Ferry."
Kellen adds at Shalelu's statement and keeps his horse trotting along: "Sounds like a straight ride onto the ferry, then."
The rains continue as you ride further north. The road here travels along the western side of Claybottom Lake. The going is muddy and rough. Between the rains and the glop of your horses through the mud, it is near impossible to hear anything, and vision is limited to a hundred or so feet at best. Even Shalelu has her cloak pulled tight around her head, and has her eyes cast downward, trying to keep the rain out as best she can.
It is near evening when the barking of a dog tells you that you must have arrived at the town. Peering through the downpour, you can just make out lights twinkling ahead.
As you ride into town, the first thing you notice is this scene and it is immediately apparent how the town got its name.